Mismatched Memory
by indigodream
Summary: Angsty. BETTER THAN WHAT THE TITLE SAYS!!! I couldn't think of anything better. Sorry. Its about Hermione, ten years from now, living in denial from the destruction of Hogwarts and Harry's death. Surprise ending. My first fic.


A/N: My little alternate reality. All characters belong to J.K.Rowling, of course. Chione is pronounced Ky-oh-nee. This is my first fanfic! No flames!  
  
  
  
Hermione stared at the newspaper headline. 'Mysterious Killings Abound in London' it proclaimed, the ink of the printing smudged.  
  
'...each of the bodies unmarked, say mystified authorities. "Not a single scratch. What's more, the victims are in perfect health. Never dealt with something like this," comments Head of Police, Mark Wallasberg, of the two dozen deaths reported.'  
  
She shuddered, knowing immediatly what this meant. Her mind raced back, back ten years, back to her last days at Hogwarts.  
  
  
  
"And this," she twirled and swept her arms around,"is the Great Hall! The ceiling is enchanted to look like the sky outside." Her parents gazed in wonder around them. She was graduating the next day, her Muggle parents were here for the ceremony.  
  
Her mother, Chione, smiled at her,"You really love this place, don't you?"  
  
"Its the hardest thing I'll ever do to let it go, Mum." She hugged Chione and bounced back,"Oh, wait until you see the Quidditch pitch! I think Harry and Ron are out there on their broomsticks. C'mon!"  
  
  
  
Hermione let a smile play over her face. She missed Hogwarts with all her heart, missed it like she missed her old friends. At this thought, she again became solemn and got up from her kitchen table.  
  
She walked down the hall of her flat and entered her room. A single bed, a desk with a computer, and a chest of drawers. Simple, and all she could afford then.   
  
Her eyes landed on the trunk at the foot of her pale green bedspread. The trunk's corners were chipped and the wood worn. Oh, how many times it had been pulled upon the Hogwarts Express! How many times had she rifled through it!  
  
She knelt and opened it. Everything from the magical world she had once been a part of lay there. Her wand, on top of her periwinkle dress robes. Black robes, quills, dry inkbottles. A corner of an Arithmacy book poked from underneath Crookshank's collar, both unused for a long time.  
  
But one thing was out of place. A shining black hand gun was placed on top of her old school uniform.  
  
  
  
"I'm going to miss this place," Harry thought out loud. The Seventh Years of Gryffindor were gathered around the fireplace for one last time. McGonagall was going to come soon to usher them to the Graduation Feast.  
  
"We all are. So many memories!" Ron sighed and reclined in his chair.  
  
She turned to Harry,"Has Sirius got a flat yet?"  
  
Harry grinned,"Yeah, a two bedroomed one over the Thames." Sirius had been placed on trial the previous year and had gotten off.  
  
The fire crackled. She never wanted to leave, just stay here forever with her friends. Never leave Hogwarts.   
  
But Time moves quickly, and in all our vast lives we can only kinder a fraction of memories. The students might have been able to remember the best ones for the rest of their lives, but would never have the chance.  
  
McGonagall appeared. Her black bun was streaked with a few hairs of grey, now, her face a little more wrinkled. She smiled at them, obivously struggling to keep her trademark strict nature, but letting emotion get the best of her.  
  
"Come on then, we've not got all day!" she beamed and whirled around on her heels. They followed her out the porthole.  
  
Hermione stayed back to say goodbye to the Fat Lady.  
  
"I'll probably have your name as a password, my dear!" she cried, dabbing her cheeks with a hankerchief,"I must admit, you and your friends have provided some good times for an old painting!"  
  
Hermione laughed,"Give my regards to Sir Cadogan!"  
  
  
  
Hermione frowned. Of course, Cadogan and the Fat Lady had been destroyed...  
  
She picked up the gun by the barrel. She didn't want it back in the living room, but here. Did she really need it? Yes, and no. Another memory bobbed to the top nof her mind. Not a fortnight ago...  
  
  
  
It was raining hard. The sounds of rain and thunder outside were terrifyingly similar to the noise of bullets and cannons. She sat in front of her television, listening to the Ten o'clock News, a cup of cocoa in hand.   
  
There was a knock on her door. Wondering vaguely who it was, Hermione turned and stood. Instead of someone behind the door, there was someone standing in front of it.  
  
She knew who it was. She knew that face, would never forget it. She even knew why he was here, what questions he would ask, and what she would answer.  
  
"Ron, please get out."  
  
"Herm, you remember me?" His freckled face broke into a grin.   
  
"What other red head would Apparate in my living room at this ungodly hour? Please get out."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You know why. You know I'm not a part of your magical world anymore."  
  
His expression dropped,"No, you'll always be a witch. You'll always have the magic. Did what happened affect you that much? Is it enough to turn you away from what you've always been?"  
  
"Yes. There's nothing there for me anymore. Everything I loved, understood, was destroyed. You can't convince me, Ron. Please get out or I'll call the cops."  
  
"Herm, you're one of the best witches out here! You-Know-Who is worse than ever! We need all the help we can get! Please come back!"  
  
"No. It's not my problem any more. Get out now. I won't go back."  
  
Ron took a step towards her, and she backed away, bumping into a side table.  
  
"Hermione, think about it. Whenever we needed you you'd help us. Us against You-Know-Who at Hogwarts, sixth year, remember? Can't you come through for me again?"  
  
A tear escaped down her face,"It used to be us three, Harry, you, and me. It's not anymore. It never will be. I can't go back. I have a gun, so get out now."  
  
His eyes flickered towards her hand,"How do you know it can't be like that again, Hermione? How do you know he isn't with us now?"  
  
"Harry's gone! I don't care if it's been ten years! Hogwarts and Dumbledore went with him, and know You-Know-Who doesn't have a thing to fear!" she sobbed,"It's useless for me to come back to try to help defeat him! He's too powerful! I won't come back for Harry, or you, or anyone else! I just can't! Get out, or I'll shoot you!"  
  
He stepped forward, his face now a foot from hers,"How do you know it's useless? How do you know Harry's gone for good? He'll be with you the entire way. You-Know-Who still has lots to fear!"  
  
Her hand dove into the side table's drawer and pulled out the hand gun. It's barrel was inches from Ron's face.  
  
"Get out now, I said, or I shoot," she hissed through her curtain of tears.  
  
Ron paled, and stepped away,"Fine, I'm gone. But you can't run from this, Herm. You're a part of the magical world, and a part of me." He Disapparated, and Hermione was left aiming at dead air.  
  
  
  
This memory was, of course, connected to a darker one, the worst inside her head. She was already crying, having been thinking about Ron. She'd totally collapse into sobs if she recalled what had happened to ruin her life. But it was on the last day of Hogwarts; no story can be left unfinished.  
  
She dropped the gun back into the trunk and closed it. Yes, she did need the gun. Just to threaten, though there was a single bullet inside.  
  
The only reason she had pulled it on Ron was to scare him away. He was from her old life, back in the magical world. She was Hermione Granger, the Muggle, now. Hermione Granger, reporter for the London Times. Not a witch.  
  
Besides, he was near to convincing her to go back.  
  
  
  
All the graduating students were seated in front of the Staff Table. They didn't sit at House Tables, but in long backed purple seats. The feast had ended, speeches given. Hermione gave a paticularily long one, being Head Girl. Dumbledore now stood where she had, his face the same as she had first seen it.  
  
"Graduating students!" he called, raising his arms, as he had on their very first day here,"I send you off into the world with all the knowledge you have accumulated here, be it in studies, or otherwise.  
  
"I must admit, you have been the most interesting group we've had here for a long time. We have have celebrated much, and have suffered under the rise of Voldemort." The Hall shuddered. "Even now we live in fear. But there is hope in the new generation. Why, merely last year three of our students came face to face with the Dark Lord!" Harry, Ron and Hermione blushed as everyone glanced at them.  
  
"And fought bravely, almost defeating him," he continued,"You are the keys to our futures. I bid you good bye, from myself and Hogwarts, with all the warmth I hope you were welcomed here with. Hogwarts will always be a part of you, and you, a part of Hogwarts!"  
  
The Hall burst into applause. Everyone clapped, everyone cried, everyone laughed. Memories flooded each of them, memories of the school and the wizards and witches inside it. Hermione became overwhelmed, and escaped the crowd into the Entrance Hall. She sat on the marble staircase, sobbing. She didn't want to leave. She was born Muggle; all she knew about the wizarding world was what she had read, which wasn't something she could quite grasp onto, and here, at Hogwarts, which was something too material to let go of.  
  
She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, but it couldn't of been too long. Her tears dried after a few minutes. She felt calmer now. Chione Granger and her husband came out looking for her, and sat down beside her. They didn't say anything, knowing there wasn't anything they could say.  
  
Then things began to happen very quickly. The events were blurred by confusion and terror. There was a great crash, and the roof shook. People poured out of the Great Hall, yelling. Hermione dived into the crowd, trying to find Harry and Ron. There was another crash. Something fell and the ground shook. Chips of marble flew from the arched ceiling.  
  
A high, cold, laugh echoed. Hermione realised what was happening. The voice uttered a curse, one, final, curse. The roof buckled, the walls crumbled.   
  
Hogwarts fell.  
  
  
  
True to what she had thought, Hermione began shaking with sobs. The entire of Hogwarts had been attacked and destroyed. Luckily, in a sense, the rest of the school had already left. Only the graduating students and staff remained. Most of the parents had lived, but not the Grangers. Over three quarters of the student body perished, along with the teachers.  
  
Harry among them.  
  
Ron was right, she thought suddenly, Voldemort still had alot to fear. Hogwarts was inside her. Dumbledore's and Harry's determination lived on.  
  
She reopened the trunk and placed the hand gun under her pillow.   
  
***  
  
For the rest of the day, Hermione wouldn't think about memories. She went about her Muggle life in a Muggle way.  
  
That night, as she lay in bed, she couldn't sleep. There was something in the air. The atmostphere was tense, the moonlight pouring in the windows seemed anxious. At midnight, Hermione heard a sound.  
  
She sat bolt upright. There was someone in her room. The air had changed from tense to thick, almost oily as it when in and out her mouth in rapid breaths.  
  
"Hermione Granger," a slick, cold, voice hissed,"It has been a long time."  
  
Voldemort stepped into the light.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she yelled.  
  
He laughed,"Not to kill you. You are far too useful."  
  
Hermione was shaking,"What do you mean, useful?"  
  
"Join me, Hermione Granger. I can gave you power, power beyond your wildest dreams. Take this anger and hurt you have and turn it to helping me control!"  
  
"Never!" she cried, her hand moving under her pillow.  
  
"Power, Hermione, power and relief from your pain!"  
  
"I would rather die!" Her hand clasped around the handle.  
  
He laughed again,"Then you will..." He raised his wand.  
  
A shot rang out. The wand dropped. Voldemort fell.   
  
Harry stood there. He didn't say anything. He nodded, as if to say this was how it was supposed to end.  
  
And he faded like a memory.  



End file.
